"So that is what you two talk of! I knew it was not how to get food for the tribe!" The voice was triumphant and harsh, close behind them.
They were on their feet in an instant, whirling to face the brutally-built man who had come up behind them. It was Luk-no. His little red-rimmed eyes were alight with anticipation.
"You came at the wrong moment," Rog growled sullenly. "We were not talking of that, but Lo grew over-enthusiastic."
"Well, and won't the Old Man be glad to hear this?" Luk-no taunted. "When I tell him, he will cave your head in like an acorn."
Rog's face was black with fury. "If you tell Sarak what you heard," he said tensely, "I will take your dirty throat in my hands and break it. Then I'll gouge your prying eyes out. I'll tear your tongue out so you can never tell anything else you hear again. Or perhaps I will just do it now!" He took a menacing step towards the smaller, burlier man, his club resting on his shoulder.
Luk-no cringed, essaying a grin. "You are too quick to anger!" he protested. "It was a joke."
"A joke," Rog mocked. "Like the time you toppled a rock on the head of one of the others who wished to mate with Lo! I don't like your jokes, dirty one. Go back to your caterpillar-grubbing before I change my mind."
But as Luk-no slunk away, he felt icy chills run down his back. He must be more careful! Here he had been on the point of telling everything to Lo. What would have resulted if Luk-no had heard! The globe, perhaps, would have been discovered and ruined!
And Rog, stalking away by himself, knew that he must be triply careful, for somehow he sensed that in that shining ball was contained the whole future of the tribe....